Stretched on the bed lay Edward, but now so full of hope and worldly plans.
Mrs.Browne looked round, and saw Maggie.

She did not get up from her place by his head; nor did she long avert her gaze from his poor face.

But she held Maggie's hand, as the girl knelt by her, and spoke to her in a hushed voice, undisturbed by tears.

Her miserable heart could not find that relief.
"He is dead!--he is gone!--he will never come back again! If he had gone to America--it might have been years first--but he would have come back to me.
But now he will never come back again;--never--never!" Her voice died away, as the wailings of the night-wind die in the distance; and there was silence--silence more sad and hopeless than any passionate words of grief.
And to this day it is the same.

She prizes her dead son more than a thousand living daughters, happy and prosperous as is Maggie now--rich in the love of many.